JLS Joshua Lyman Swaggers
by Jaye Reid
Summary: From the sublime to the ridiculous is but a step." Napoleon


Title: JLS - Joshua Lyman Swaggers.  
  
By Jaye Reid  
  
Commenced: February 1, 2004  
  
Completed: February 2, 2004  
  
Rating: PG13 - fluff.  
  
Spoilers: If we're watching the same show, none. Let's just say season 1 - 5.  
  
Disclaimer: Created by the brilliant Sorkin and owned by WB. Not mine, never will be. I have no money, therefore I'm not worth suing. Borrowed for my own amusement.  
  
Category: Josh/Donna - Donna POV   
  
Summary: "From the sublime to the ridiculous is but a step." Napoleon   
  
Archiving: "Boulevard of Misdirection"  
  
http://users.mcmedia.com.au/~jayereid/jldmmain.htm  
  
The National Library and Fanfiction.net  
  
Authors Notes: I have no idea why. My beta's Aim & Bridget take no responsibility for any of this story. I just made them correct it for me before I subjected it on everyone else. As to whether it kick starts my muse... well I guess we'll wait and see.  
  
*****  
  
Josh Lyman swaggers.  
  
I have a good view of it coming down the long hallway to our bullpen.  
  
Yes, I know this is not a new phenomenon I'm just discovering. Margaret told me about it - long before I ever saw it.   
  
During Bartlet for America.  
  
The first one.  
  
And I have seen it unleashed many times over the years.  
  
From all angles.  
  
It's truly a sight to be studied.  
  
Many theories abound on the degree of swagger in his gait. Over the years I have come to realize they fall into three main categories. There's the 'A Democrat dared cross me and I won' swagger, the 'I slew a Republican dragon and I won' swagger and there is the current one.  
  
I'd always thought this particular swagger as 'I'm Joshua Lyman, Esquire and I'm in a good mood for the next half hour before it all goes to hell' swagger.  
  
Today I know different. I'm not sure I'm happy about it when I realize how many times I have seen this particular version.  
  
This is his 'I got well and truly laid last night' swagger.  
  
You can see why I am not happy.  
  
Yes, call me jealous - I don't care.  
  
I remember first seeing this during the Mandy era on the campaign trail. You can understand why I thought it was a general 'good mood' swagger. It always appeared the day she went somewhere and left us all alone. I thought it was from relief she was gone, because all they did was argue. Well, he probably *did* feel better she wasn't there, but that's beside the point. I now realize it was obviously a 'let's screw each others brains out the night before we don't see each other for awhile' kind of theory.  
  
The next day the swagger appeared.  
  
I saw it off and on over the years. The supposed 'happy mood' swagger was an irregular visitor as increasingly, someone turned his day to hell before he made it though the front gate. I can recall its appearances, but not necessarily all the women who helped put it there. There are several I do know, but I refuse to utter their names.  
  
I've already admitted to being jealous - deal with it.  
  
By now Joshua Lyman, Esquire - who apparently believes he got well and truly laid last night - is standing expectantly in front of my desk.  
  
I doubt my smile goes all the way to my eyes when I look up at him.  
  
He rolls his tongue in his cheek - unsure - when I don't glow back at him with a matching 1000 watt beam to the one he's exhibiting to all and sundry this morning.  
  
"Good morning Donna. Do you have my schedule?"  
  
"No," I reply without explanation - which leaves him standing there looking confused.  
  
"What? I don't have to beat anyone into submission today? I have a free day? I can go out and enjoy the sunshine?"  
  
I scoff at the thought of him outside - yeah right.  
  
"Point one... it's minus 2 out there and besides the six inches of snow already on the ground, we're expected to get at least another inch or three before lunch."  
  
"So?"  
  
I roll my eyes in a way that would make CJ proud as I decide whether it's even worth explaining it to one half of her idiot boys.   
  
"So," I explain, as I turn back to the computer keyboard and begin to type, "Even if you had a free day - which you don't - the last place you would go is outside where there is a distinct lack of sunshine."  
  
Wisely the man moves away from me and into his office.  
  
The swagger is gone.  
  
I have power. Take that Joshua!  
  
I continue to do my work, and I feel his presence again before he speaks.  
  
"Donna?"  
  
"Yes Josh?"  
  
"My schedule was on my desk."  
  
"Yes, I believe I put it there."  
  
"Do you have a moment? My office?"  
  
I look up at him. He's being very polite.  
  
So un-Josh.  
  
A few more keystrokes and I finish the sentence I was typing. I mark my spot on the rough copy and lead the way into his office.  
  
He closes the door behind us before heading to his chair. Scrubbing his hands across his face, he leans forward, elbows on the top of the desk, hand either side of his chin and stares up at me.  
  
"I don't know what it was, but I'm sorry and tell me how to fix it," he states.  
  
"You swagger," I inform him.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You swagger," I repeat, accusatorily.  
  
"What do you... No, I don't. I don't..."  
  
I give him a polar ice cap melting glare.  
  
"Okay... okay, maybe I do a little, but..."  
  
I snort at the suggestion it's only a minor thing.  
  
"Don-na..." he whines.  
  
"Jo-sh..." I mimic. "You swagger. No two ways about it - you swagger. I watched you this morning, and I've seen it countless times over the years. You totally radiate 'I got well and truly laid last night' - and don't try and tell me that isn't how it was!  
  
He looks at me guiltily. He pinches the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger, caressing it firmly before leaning back in his chair with a sigh. "Donna, I don't... Well, I don't mean to if I am... it's... You can tell? You can tell from the way I walk?"  
  
"Yes," I nod.  
  
"It's probably something I should try and stop doing around the office?"  
  
"I would think so, unless you want people to ask who the poor unfortunate woman is."  
  
"Donna... that's not very nice."  
  
"I know," I reply hanging my head. I shouldn't talk like that. Josh doesn't like it when I do.  
  
"It's just that... Well, now that I've realized why you swagger like you did this morning, I'm remembering all the other times I've seen it."  
  
"You are?"  
  
"Yes," I nod.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I'm sorry," he begins, but I don't know whether he really is, so I do what I've been trained since I was a young girl.  
  
I pout.  
  
Not a full petulant child 'I must have my own way at all cost' pout. Just a subtle little...  
  
Yes, well it's obviously enough.  
  
Josh rounds his desk at warp speed before I manage to take another breath. He cocks his head to one side as he stands in front of me and runs the fingertips of one hand gently down my cheek.  
  
"No more swaggering?" I'm not sure whether he's making a statement or asking a question.  
  
"I'd prefer not," I reply as lean into his hand now resting under my chin.  
  
"Okay," he replies softly, sincerely.  
  
Now that's *very* un-Josh-like in the office.  
  
I give him a slight smile "Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome. Umm... alright. My schedule, the one I found on my desk... it says McMillan at 8:45 after staff, correct?"  
  
"If it's on there it must be," I reply returning to an air of professionalism.  
  
"Okay, so... yeah..."  
  
"Just bellow if you need me," I reply in my usual business-like tone.  
  
"I always need you," he replies - now *that* gets him the 1000 watt smile.  
  
"A gift, Joshua," I decide.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Last meeting today is a dinner one at 7:00. If you're home by 11:00, I'll make sure I give you the same as I gave you last night."  
  
I'm almost tempted to turn back and close his mouth rather than let it hang open. Instead I head back to my desk, tossing a 'no more swagger' decree over my shoulder.  
  
You see, there's a good reason why I know what that swagger means...  
  
I put it there.  
  
Finis! 


End file.
